


The Art of Losing

by primeideal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Harry Potter Next Generation, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 00:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primeideal/pseuds/primeideal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On New Year's Eve, nobody acts their age.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Losing

**Author's Note:**

> For nextgen_mas 2012. The original prompt was "Teddy can't understand he got beaten at chess by an 7 year old Weasley (either Rose or Hugo)," but I worked in a lot of other prompts from the original prompter (nevrafire) as well as a 2011 prompt from Swissmarg. Thanks to nnozomi for betaing!

"Dad, why is Mum asleep?"  
  
"She's asleep because she's very tired."  
  
"But it's New Year's Eve!"  
  
"She's still tired."  
  
"You said I could stay up for a while."  
  
"Yes, and you have, a little bit."  
  
"Can I wake up Zannie?"  
  
"No, she needs to sleep too."  
  
"But you said—"  
  
"I was talking to you. When Roxanne is big enough to ask to stay up, maybe she can stay up."  
  
"Can I help with your work?"  
  
George laughed, shaking his head at the fireworks. "No, this is just for me."  
  
"But Uncle Lee helped."  
  
"It's just for grownups."  
  
"Does Mum help on them?"  
  
"Not this year."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because this is my job."  
  
"Does Mum have a job?"  
  
"Right now her job is taking care of Roxanne."  
  
"Does Uncle Lee have a job?"  
  
George opened his mouth slowly, but before he could make something up, Roxanne woke up and began to cry. Underneath her, Angelina stirred quietly. George bent down and picked his daughter up. "Sh-sh-sh," he began rhythmically.  
  
"I'll take her," Lee cut in. George paused a moment but then passed her off. Lee shifted her for a few moments, arms bending at awkward angles, then began singing quietly under his breath. A few minutes later, although Roxanne had not quite fallen asleep, she was at least calmer.  
  
" _Do_  you have a job?" Fred repeated, as George slipped out of the room.  
  
"I have a lot of jobs," Lee smiled.  
  
"Are you really busy?"  
  
"Well, I don't have all of them at once. I move around a lot."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"It's fun to see different places. Did you know in China it's already the new year?"  
  
Fred thought this over. "No. Where's China?"  
  
Lee glanced out the window as if looking for directions. A fresh layer of snow covered the lawn, the faint outlines of Fred's snow angel just barely visible. An elaborate display of Christmas lights shone outside the house, every year an improvement over the last thanks to reverse-engineering Muggle technology. Holding Roxanne close to him with one arm, he reached for his wand with the other, whispering "Point me." It spun for a moment before pointing towards the window, and he quickly turned it ninety degrees to the right. "China is that way."  
  
"Is it big?"  
  
"Very."  
  
George returned with a blanket, gently draping it over Angelina. "Dad!" Fred interrupted. "How come Uncle Lee—"  
  
"That's enough, Fred."  
  
"Go on," Lee laughed, "you ask me a question, and then I'll ask you one, all right?"  
  
"Okay!" said Fred. "How come you have long hair? You look like mum. Or Aunt Ginny."  
  
George broke out laughing, then checked himself. "I think we all want to know that."  
  
"But you hide it well," said Lee. "I like long hair. Besides, when I'm traveling around, I'm not always staying near a barber shop, so this way I only have to get it cut once in a while."  
  
Fred seemed to mull it over before deciding that made sense enough. "Okay. Now you ask me one!"  
  
"Why are you called Fred?"  
  
"Cause that's  _me_! You have to say my name if you want to talk to me, cause if you don't then maybe you want Zannie or someone."  
  
Lee glanced at George for a moment; neither spoke until George said "I'll take her back if you're heading out."  
  
"Thanks," said Lee, gently passing the baby over. "Ssh," he repeated again as George carefully took her.  
  
"Sure you don't want to stick around? We're going to have fireworks."  
  
"Have you cleared that with your wife?" Lee nodded at Angelina, who was still asleep.  
  
George shook his head. "Chivalry lives on."  
  
"I can see fireworks where I'm heading, don't worry about me."  
  
"All right. Well, happy new year."  
  
"The same to you, give Angelina my best. And happy new year, Freddie."  
  
"Is it New Year's yet?" Fred asked.  
  
"Not yet," smiled Lee, "but soon."  


* * *

  
Victoire Weasley knocked at the door.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
She knocked again.  
  
Still nothing.  
  
She pounded on it several times in a row.  
  
"Go away," the occupant muttered.  
  
" _Alohomora!_ " she cast triumphantly.  
  
No effect.  
  
Cautiously, she pushed the door open. "It was open all along? You idiot."  
  
"Well," said Teddy Lupin, "it's not like I'm hiding a pot of gold or anything in here, is it?"  
  
"I dunno. Are you? We were gonna play hide and seek but instead we should play hide-a-pot-of-gold-and-seek."  
  
"Okay, did you want to hide in here? Because I'm pretty sure everyone can hear you."  
  
"No, I wanted to tell you we were playing, you should come play too."  
  
"I'm not gonna play with a bunch of little kids."  
  
"Really? That's not what Rosie said."  
  
Teddy slammed the door in her face.  
  
"What was I supposed to do?" he sulked at the chess set sprawled in front of him.  
  
"Well," the black king perked up, "the next time an enchanting young maiden comes bursting down my door, I would lean over and kiss her in a gentlemanly fashion."  
  
"Kiss  _Victoire_? She's a  _third_ -year! And I wasn't talking about her."  
  
"It's New Year's Eve, isn't it?" said the queen.  
  
"What's that have to do with anything?"  
  
"There should be some mistletoe still hanging around, you want to find that and then snog her."  
  
"You're  _useless_ ," he sighed, toppling them and bouncing a knight instead.  
  
"I say," the knight said after a few tosses around, "put me down, that hurts—ah!"  
  
Teddy was distracted by a noise at the door; he lunged to his side and just barely plucked the toppling knight out of the air. He stomped over to the door again. "I said, go a _way_."  
  
"Sssh," said Victoire, slipping into the room. "I'll be quiet, just let me hide."  
  
"Who's seeker?"  
  
"Rosie."  
  
Teddy's eyes lit up. "Okay. You want to hide in here?"  
  
"Yeah, climb up in that closet if I can."  
  
"Okay. Come with me, I have an idea."  
  
"And no fair spellcasting, it's not fair for the little ones."  
  
"Of course. Who all is playing?"  
  
"Louis and I, Molly—it's fair for her, there's no wands—and Roxanne, Rosie, James, and Al."  
  
"Okay, good. You climb on in there, yeah? And I'll come too."  
  
"Wait, are you going to play?"  
  
"Yes. No. Kind of. Stay still."  
  
So Victoire climbed to the back corner, and Teddy shuffled in, a step in front of her. "Did you just get shorter?"  
  
"Nah, can't really change my size—that'd make it unfair for playing Quidditch."  
  
"I guess. Doesn't stop you changing your hair color, though..."  
  
"Hey, anything to lead the house on."  
  
Quidditch was one thing, he told himself, when he was in the air and moving around all the time. Anyone could just stand still for minutes on end. Victoire wasn't much of an athlete, but she was managing just fine. And yet—maybe just his competitive nerves getting worked up—he still felt tense. What was it the chess pieces had said?  
  
No. Stupid. Had to stay still.  
  
He thought he made out noises from the wider room. "You just stay put, I know what I'm doing. Okay?" he whispered.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Don't move. Don't speak up. I've got this."  
  
Someone was walking over to the closet, opening the door, waving a hand around. Teddy said nothing until someone tapped him on the leg. "Found you."  
  
"Yeah, you got me all right," he said, making his way out of the closet. "...Albus?"  
  
"Fred?"  
  
"I didn't know you were seeking!"  
  
"I didn't know you were  _playing_!"  
  
"Well, I changed my mind," said Teddy, running a hand through his dark hair. "Who've you found?"  
  
"James, Molly, and Roxanne—she's little, she doesn't know how to hide very well."  
  
"Yeah," Teddy sighed, "all right."  
  
Louis proved somewhat more difficult to discover, but Albus eventually managed it; he had crawled into George's largest box of fireworks materials. After Louis protested that the firework parts scattered across the floor should have been a significant clue, Teddy-as-Fred noted that "knowing my dad, he left them there because he was going to work until the last minute, Albus didn't know any better," and Louis conceded the point.  
  
This left only Rose and Victoire left to find. Before Rose was encountered—how  _can she be that smart,_  Teddy seethed,  _she's_  seven—Albus made a very surprising discovery: the real Fred, earnestly getting Muggle book recommendations from Uncle Percy.  
  
"Now, at your age, I didn't read very much of—hello?"  
  
"Fred?" said Albus. "What are you... _what_?"  
  
"What?" Fred echoed.  
  
"I thought you were over with Louis."  
  
"No."  
  
"Did you just leave?"  
  
"No, we've been here for a while."  
  
Albus stomped to the next room, then looked back. "Wait, there's two of you."  
  
"Then that one's Ted," said Fred coolly.  
  
"Oh. What are you doing, Teddy?"  
  
Teddy laughed. "Just thought I'd join in after all."  
  
Albus trekked off in pursuit of Rose, and eventually found her curled up under a pile of blankets with enough protrusions that he'd poked it a couple times early on without anyone giving way. This left only Victoire to locate, and as the other cousins were growing restless—by consensus, she had already set the stealth record some time previously—they all joined in hunting for her. Molly eventually discovered her, not having known which places had already been searched.  
  
"You looked  _where_?" Albus demanded.  
  
"In the closet in that room," Molly pointed.  
  
"That's where you were!" said Albus.  
  
Teddy shrugged. "Didn't look hard enough."  
  
"How come you didn't tell me?"  
  
"Well...Victoire told me Rose was seeking," said Teddy, as if that explained everything.  
  
"So what?" said Ron.  
  
"So—I wanted to trick her.  _Beat_  her."  
  
Most of the cousins didn't seem to care, having already begun preparing for a second round, but Ron waved Teddy aside. "Rosie's seven years old. Is she really worth getting worked up against?"  
  
"She is when she  _wins_ ," Teddy huffed.  
  
"Is this about this morning?"  
  
"It's not  _fair!_  She's half my age and she just wins like it's no big deal! She doesn't even  _care_ —and I—"  
  
"Teddy—"  
  
"Leave me alone."  
  
"Teddy, listen—"  
  
"No! Every stupid  _year_  it's always the same, there's  _no one_  my age, it's  _always_  these little kids—and now Rose is better at chess than me—there's _nothing_."  
  
"Teddy, you know how well you do in school, how good you are at Quidditch, everyone has different strengths—"  
  
"But when I talk about how I do at school Grandmum just says "Teddy, don't brag,"  _she's_  a little genius and she doesn't  _care_  and—"  
  
"Victoire came to say hello when you were locking yourself away, don't you think that maybe that the little kids like spending time with you?"  
  
"Maybe they do, but they're just  _little_ , I shouldn't have to spend time with  _them_  when I don't want."  
  
Ron nodded. "Put it this way. I brag about my wife, a lot—"  
  
"Well, of course you do, you're married to Hermione—"  
  
"—and I know she's probably smarter than me. But I beat her at chess, eleven times out of a dozen. She won't even play me anymore, it's no fun for her."  
  
"But you have other friends your own age."  
  
"Yeah. What I'm saying is, if Rosie gives you a challenge, you might as well take it."  
  
"Does she beat you?"  
  
"Sometimes."  
  
"Then I don't stand a chance!"  
  
"Do you play bughouse?"  
  
"No. What's that? It sounds gross."  
  
"It's not. It's chess with two teams of two—you and your teammate are opposite colors, so when you capture a piece he or she can use it in their game. You play it with fast clocks."  
  
"Clocks?"  
  
"Don't you ever play with clocks?"  
  
"Chess? No."  
  
Ron shook his head. "No wonder—what I mean is—Rosie's gotten into my hobbies very well, is all."  
  
From across the room, Rose perked her ears. "Not  _all_  of them. I cheer for  _Tutshill_."  
  
"At which I continually despair. Here, come over, I'll play you in bughouse and you can be on Teddy's team."  
  
"Who's he playing?"  
  
"I don't know. Does Victoire want to play?"  
  
"Play what?" Victoire called.  
  
"Bughouse, it's like chess. We'll teach you," said Ron.  
  
"Are you playing, Teddy?"  
  
"I guess," he answered.  
  
"Sure, I'll join."  
  
"Okay," said Teddy, then blushed and turned to Ron. "Just one thing, you'd better get your own set. The one I was playing with before...I need some more luck, is all."  
  
Ron laughed. "All right."  


* * *

  
  
"Mum?"  
  
"Yes, Lily?"  
  
"When's Aunt Luna going to have the baby?"  
  
"There's going to be  _two_  babies. Remember? Like—well, never mind."  
  
"Two babies?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"At the same time?"  
  
"One after the other. Just a few minutes apart."  
  
"What if she had the babies today?"  
  
"She's not going to have the babies today, they're too little."  
  
"Could somebody else have babies today?"  
  
"Yes, I guess they could."  
  
"What if—what if somebody had a baby tonight, and then a few minutes later they had another baby, but it was already New Year's?"  
  
"That could happen."  
  
"And the babies would be born in different years?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"That's  _silly_."  
  
"Being born on New Year's Eve would be silly  _anyway_ ," James cut in, "you could say, I was born in this year or whatever, but then it would be really more like you were born in the next one—"  
  
Ginny sighed. "Why don't you two go help Albus with dessert."  


* * *

  
  
Christmas Day was a time for even adults, receiving presents, to act like children. At least it was for Arthur Weasley, who in spite of his age could still thrill to receive an oversized and outdated mobile telephone from young Molly.  
  
"I don't know if it'll work in your house," she muttered, but he protested and told her to think nothing of it.  
  
Barely a week later and it was New Year's Eve. The novelty of some gifts had worn off, but others were enjoyed with an intensity that turned children into singleminded adults.  
  
"Are you sure this was a good idea?" Harry repeated, nervously staring out the window as James zoomed by.  
  
"He would have wanted one to take next fall anyway," Ginny said, "and if we'd given it to him for his birthday he'd have been like this at school, rules or none."  
  
James disembarked and walked inside, not bothering to take off his coat. "Hey there, rookie," Harry called, "do you need a snack?"  
  
"Nuh-uh, can I Floo to Teddy's?"  
  
"Is he on the Floo?" said Ginny.  
  
"He might be at Andromeda's for New Year's," said Harry. "What do you want?"  
  
"Quidditch advice."  
  
"James, there's a professional Quidditch player  _under your roof_  if you need advice."  
  
"Yeah, well, I don't need like  _professional_  advice. Yet. Just Hogwarts stuff."  
  
"Yet?" Ginny laughed.  
  
"And besides, you'll give me a hard time about it."  
  
"Take off your snowy boots, then you can Floo Andromeda and see if Teddy's there."  
  
A few minutes later Teddy had Apparated over, broom in tow. To James' disappointment, not even Teddy stowed Quaffles in his flat, but he quickly began running through a series of flight patterns that kept James busy. Barely an hour later, he was exhausted, and Teddy laughed.  
  
"Harder than it looks, eh?"  
  
"I'm just tired because I've been flying for most of the week."  
  
"In this weather?"  
  
"Like the weather ever stopped you!"  
  
"Well, I'm a little bit more used to it—"  
  
"So what! I just need a snack is all, then I can go out for some more."  
  
Teddy laughed. "I'm going back to Grandmum's, you have fun."  
  
"Easter, then. Or summer break."  
  
"Teddy has a job, remember," Harry interrupted.  
  
"Job, schmob," said Teddy, "this one is more of a workout than some wannabe pros I could name."  
  
"Tell me!" James lit up.  
  
"That's enough," said Harry. "C'mere, Ted, bring these over to your grandmother's place if you're going..."  


* * *

  
  
Harry and Ginny had squabbled over gifts in the runup to the next Christmas. Ginny said Albus really didn't want a broom, they'd be better off getting him some Muggle clothes. Harry was convinced he would like one, he just wasn't as loud about it as James.  
  
In the end they split the difference; a broom the same make as James' had gotten significantly cheaper in the past year, so they got that as well as various Muggle clothes. The latter seemed a much more immediate hit; after four months' worth of wearing black uniforms all the time, Albus took a much more casual approach to lying around the house.  
  
That is, until New Year's Eve. Again.  
  
"We're gonna go fly," James declared, and Albus nodded.  
  
"You want to go show Al what you've learned on the team?" Ginny smiled.  
  
"Nah, Teddy is gonna help."  
  
"Teddy? Isn't he hanging out with Victoire?"  
  
"That's all right, I can wait," said Albus.  
  
"Yeah, you stay back," said James, "no need to take up too much of his time."  
  
"No, you bring your brother," Ginny said. "Albus, bundle up in your warm clothes."  
  
"I'm gonna be warm, I'll be moving—"  
  
"And you'll  _stay_  warm in your warm clothes."  
  
Albus lost that battle, but all reluctance was forgotten as he joined James and Teddy. "Did you bring any balls?" James eagerly asked.  
  
Teddy laughed. "Not today. You can show Albus some of what you've learned, and I'll give you more broom advice. You two going to be another pair of Beater brothers?"  
  
"Yeah," said James, "our captain thinks we're gonna get big enough for it in a couple years."  
  
But Teddy was looking at Albus, who had whispered something under his breath. "What was that?"  
  
"IthinkmaybeIcouldbeaSeeker," he repeated.  
  
James snorted. "Typical. Thinks he's quiet but shows off when he gets the chance."  
  
"Hey," said Teddy. "I happen to know that Albus could be a great Seeker if he wants."  
  
"Seriously?" both boys said at once.  
  
"Seriously. But first, let's work on flying."  


* * *

  
  
"Dad, where's my rune book?"  
  
"Louis, relax."  
  
"I am relaxed, I just would like to know where it is."  
  
"It's New Year's Eve, you shouldn't be doing schoolwork."  
  
"I don't want to  _read_  it, it's just, it's a library book, I want to know where it  _is_."  
  
"What're you looking for?" said Albus.  
  
"Oh, just a book from school. I'll find it."  
  
"What's it look like?"  
  
"It's got runes on the front. You know, jerky lines."  
  
Albus nodded distractedly and wandered off. Louis carefully maneuvered past Uncle George and Aunt Audrey, who were busy tinkering with some contraption he decided against touching, and over to join Hugo, Lily, and Roxanne. The girls were racing their Pygmy Puffs, while Hugo looked on with a critical eye and sternly told Roxanne off for squeezing hers too tightly.  
  
"Louis can be judge," Roxanne declared, "Lily cheats."  
  
"I do  _not_ ," said Lily.  
  
"Okay, okay, I'll be judge," said Louis. "From here to down the hall? Are you sure none of them will have accidents along the way?"  
  
"They did once," said Hugo, "Dad Vanished it."  
  
"Maybe we should do this outside."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, in the snow!" Roxanne cheered.  
  
"No!" said Hugo. "They'll get too cold. Inside."  
  
"Okay," said Louis. "One race, let's see."  
  
Lily's "Rover" easily beat out Roxanne's "Sunray" on the first go; there was no need for a judge, and it should have been a boring process watching the Pygmy Puffs amble down the long hallway. Still, all three of their expressions—Lily smirking, Roxanne with fists clenched, Hugo gulping in concern—were amusing enough that Louis stayed put for the rematch that Roxanne insisted upon.  
  
By the time Hugo was talking her out of "best three out of five," Albus had returned, Molly behind him. "Sorry, didn't know whose this was," she said.  
  
"Whose what was?" he asked.  
  
"This," she said, handing over the rune syllabary.  
  
Louis' mouth dropped. "W—why were you reading this?"  
  
She tossed her long hair back. "Because it doesn't bite. I take German at school, this is interesting stuff."  
  
"Yeah, but the spells—"  
  
"You can't  _cast_  half of them either, can you? Aunt Hermione told me this was advanced stuff."  
  
He blushed. "I had just gotten it for reading over break."  
  
"All right, well, there's probably still stuff I could learn, isn't there? Linguistics or something. The way the spelling changes over time."  
  
"Yeah, but—" He broke off and stared at her. "I mean, isn't it kind of boring?"  
  
"That it's only theoretical for me? Yeah. But isn't it more or less the same for you?"  
  
"I  _like_  theoretical stuff."  
  
"All right. Then we're even. Send me mail sometime, I'll read it with you even if everyone else thinks it's boring. And astronomy, I bet I know astronomy you don't."  
  
Louis smiled. "I'd like that."  


* * *

  
  
"James, Albus, I'm sure you can give Lily some advice," said Harry, "you really don't need to bother Teddy and Victoire."  
  
"But it's tradition!" said James.  
  
"Two years, those were before he was married, you can't just assume—"  
  
"Wotcher!" Teddy Apparated in, a satchel draped over his coat.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "You spoil these three."  
  
"Nah," said Teddy, "Lily's away at Hogwarts now, I have to find  _some_  time to see them before the year's out."  
  
"They'd written to you already?"  
  
"Had to set it up in advance to borrow the balls," he said, shifting the bag.  
  
"You have a practice set?  _Brilliant_!" said James. "Can we scrimmage?"  
  
"We'll see. Depending on how quickly Lily picks up the broom skills."  
  
"I picked up my broom already," Lily grinned, raising it up off the ground.  
  
Teddy laughed. "All right."  
  
Once Harry was out of earshot, he asked the others, "So,  _do_  you practice together sometimes?"  
  
"A little bit. Albus helped me this last week," said Lily.  
  
"Good! And your parents, do they help?"  
  
"Not really," said James. "Mostly Dad is making sure we don't get hurt."  
  
"Not your mum?"  
  
"Not really."  
  
"Does she—she can't  _mind_  you playing Quidditch. Doesn't she give you any advice? Or your aunts and uncles?"  
  
"Uncle Ron, sometimes," said Albus. "But, you know, Mum quit playing Quidditch when she had us. Do you think it makes her sad, to see us play?"  
  
"Your mum loves you, I'm sure you don't make her sad."  
  
"But what if?"  
  
"Stop worrying so much. Go on, Lily, let's see you get on your broom..."  
  
Very quickly, Lily was on her broom, and then almost as quickly several hundred yards distant. As competitive as they seemed, it was clear to Teddy that they must have helped each other practice at some point, probably even with their parents' help. And as much as James didn't exactly _initiate_  gossip about professional Quidditch, he was quick to tune in every time Lily began chattering about something Ginny had written.  
  
When they returned a couple hours later, Harry was not surprised that Teddy stayed for tea and snacks. But then he asked to use the Pensieve.  
  
"O—of course," Harry said.  
  
"All right. Come on, guys."  
  
"You're taking the kids?"  
  
"I want to show them one of my matches this past year. There's—things about playing Quidditch, you can't learn just from flying lessons."  
  
"Don't put the cart before the Thestral, James is just a fourth year, the others are younger—"  
  
"I know," said Teddy, "it's all right."  
  
So he led them up to Harry's room, and reached out with his wand, past his hair (a near-gray shade of brown, on the day), and extracted a memory that he placed into Harry's Pensieve. "Don't play with this on your own," he said, "they're powerful magic, wait for someone else."  
  
"Do you have one?" said Albus.  
  
"Not of my own, yet. But I share one with the team, we replay matches there." He nodded at the surface of the liquid, where a bright summer day shone. "After you, then."  
  
It felt like a long way to fall, down not just into the Pensieve but as if into first the air above the pitch, where the teams emerged—there was a blue-haired Teddy, waving at the crowd and making his way to the goalposts—and then down farther still, down into the stands.  
  
"This is  _amazing_!" James gasped. "You could watch any game you wanted!"  
  
"You'd need a memory," Lily pointed out.  
  
"Yeah, well. That's what the Museum of Quidditch is for, right?"  
  
"This way," said Teddy. "We get to be Tutshill fans today."  
  
"You'll stand out," said Lily.  
  
"It's a memory, goofball," said James.  
  
"Ssh." Teddy led them up a flight of stands, where they stood, invisible to the other fans. Though, of course, few of the people actually present at the match noticed each other at first—they were all concentrating on watching the players in the air.  
  
At first.  
  
Five, ten minutes passed, with no sign of the Snitch. No penalties, though a few early goals for each side. Teddy quietly pointed out tactics, but it was nothing they hadn't seen during the multitude of games they'd attended as children and over the summer. He seemed to be waiting for something else.  
  
It came shortly after the Tornados went ahead, from the row behind them. A few loud fans began chanting: "Who's the werewolf in the blue?"  
  
"Shut up," hissed another, "I can't hear the commentator." But gradually the chant began spreading throughout the section.  
  
"Can you see me?" Teddy asked. "The other me, I mean?"  
  
"Of course," said Lily, "you're right there."  
  
"But I mean, can you see my face? Whether I'm getting angry?"  
  
"No, you're kind of small all the way over there.  
  
"That's dumb," said Albus, "you're not really a werewolf."  
  
"Of course I'm not. But they like to make fun of me. Well, they like to make fun of everyone—that's not the problem—but to say that because of what my dad was, that that's something I should be ashamed of. Or I should let it distract me, throw off my game. Which of course, it didn't."  
  
"But you lost that game, didn't you? Tutshill won a bunch in a row, Rose didn't shut up about it."  
  
"Right. But I—well, no, that's not true. I do care, I care about every game, we all do. And we all dwell on it a little, nothing changes that. But that was when I really understood that the score wasn't the most important thing."  
  
"So, what's the most important thing?" asked Lily.  
  
"Blah blah blah, be nice," said James. "And don't cheer for Tutshill."  
  
"Your cousin Rose cheers for Tutshill," Teddy said. "And so does that guy who just wanted to watch the game and not have people yelling rude chants. You can't write off all of them at once—then you're sinking to the mean ones' level."  
  
"But there's lots of silly cheers."  
  
"There are! And most of them are just silly. Or making fun of me when I'm having a bad match—that's annoying, but it's part of the game. It's when they pick on you for something you can't control—like who your parents are—that they've gone too far. And whatever you do, whether you become Quidditch players or Aurors or work for the Ministry or open a pub—there will be people who know who your parents are, and give you a hard time because of it. You can't let them get to you."  
  
"But we'd be playing Quidditch!" said James, "Nobody would let a few idiots get in the way of that."  
  
"There are tradeoffs to everything. Even playing Quidditch. Even being famous. I think your Uncle Charlie knows something about that."  
  
"Why would people not like our parents?" Lily asked, as Tutshill scored again. "They're heroes."  
  
"They are. But people like getting mad at people everyone likes—they think it makes them look cool. Most of them will grow out of it, but until you have to do, you have to put up with them. And the good news is, once you learn how to do that, you can handle everything else." He nodded. "Even having your Seeker miss an easy one while the ref misses a penalty against them,  _and_  they score."  


* * *

  
  
"No."  
  
"You don't have to make your mind up right away—"  
  
"You clearly already have."  
  
"It wasn't easy."  
  
"But now you're just going to sweep everything under the rug, pretend you've been fine with it all along—"  
  
"There hasn't been much of an ‘all along,’ if you'll recall, this was pretty sudden."  
  
"Sudden. That's one word for it."  
  
"This is our daughter we're talking about. She was hardly likely to have a five-year engagement to some quiet Muggle—"  
  
"I'd have been fine with a Muggle! I have no problems with Muggles!"  
  
"Of course you don't. But instead she's fallen in love with someone who's—who's loyal, and brave, and funny, and was on our side—"  
  
"She shouldn't be with someone old enough to remember different 'sides'."  
  
"—things could be much worse."  
  
"That doesn't make this all right."  
  
"Listen, would you rather she wait until one of the—Scamanders, are they, grow up?"  
  
"The twins? We have no idea what they'll be like as adults—"  
  
"Exactly, but you don't seem to have anything against age differences as a rule. Or look at the Lupins, Ted turned out all right."  
  
"They were in a war, that's different."  
  
"Look. If she'd fallen in love with one of our other classmates—most of them—I'd agree with you. They're too old for her."  
  
"Oh, but when it's someone who flirted with you for half a decade it's all right?"  
  
"At heart? He can't be much older than she is. And hasn't been for a couple decades, now."  
  
"So, as soon as she matures and realizes this is a horrible idea—"  
  
"She's bold, but not stupid, she'll have thought this through. Maybe she can be a—good influence on him too. Somehow."  
  
"He's like—he can't be my  _son_."  
  
"Because he's like your brother?"  
  
"I didn't say that."  
  
"You and Fred were closer to him than to Percy in school, everyone remembers that."  
  
"Forget it. Just never mind."  
  
"You lost a twin. Just because you grew more sober doesn't mean everyone has to."  
  
"No, he gets to go off gallivanting the world and come home to fall in love with our daughter? Is that how it works?"  
  
"What if he ran away because he felt guilty being around you?"  
  
"Since when has he bared his soul to you?"  
  
"If you have to know, it was a day when you were in no fit state to listen to him."  
  
George paused. "All right. But how do we know he doesn't just see her as another version of you?"  
  
"George Weasley," said Angelina, "be careful."  
  
"I'm sorry," he sighed. "You're right."  
  
"We would have had this conversation whoever she found. It's not supposed to be easy."  
  
"I can't believe she's moving out."  
  
Angelina smiled. "This is what we fought for."  
  
"Hello?" Roxanne knocked. "You guys okay?"  
  
"We're fine, just give us a while," Angelina called back.  
  
"No, you can come in," said George.  
  
Angelina turned to look at him, but Roxanne slipped in. "What's going on?"  
  
George turned his wand over in his hands. "I guess it's easier to do this, knowing I could curse you both for coming up with this idea if I wanted..."  
  
"George—" Angelina began.  
  
"—but no, you have my blessing."  
  
Roxanne paused, eyes welling up with tears, then dashed across the room to hug them both. "Thank you. Thank you, that means so much to both of us—"  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Come on, you need to help me with these boxes or we'll be late for the fireworks."  
  
She laughed. "We're right on time."


End file.
